Therapy
by Dyanne Hellen Sotobod
Summary: Riza stopped pacing and dropped on the couch in a most undignified way. “How can I feel that way about a person who is so... infuriating?” -- Royai. Rated for brief mention of adult themes. Now a TWO-SHOT.
1. Chapter 1

**Obviously, I do not own FMA. If I did, releases would come once a week (even if they had to be shorter, it's nice to have something to look forward to each week instead of dying while waiting for the next month), Roy and Riza would be openly together, and we'd see Pinako more.**

**Thanks for reading!**

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"He makes my life so much harder! All the work he doesn't do falls to me." Riza stopped pacing and dropped on the couch in a most undignified way. "How can I feel that way about a person who is so... infuriating?"

The military psychologist put down her pen. "Have you told him how you feel?"

Riza sighed. "Even if I could... Even if he felt the same... Would it change anything? There are those stupid fraternization laws..." She put her head in her hands. "Did I tell you we actually had a thing once? Back in Ishbal... It was our first time together after three years. He made the first move. We had sex several times, and after each time, he would hold onto me he never wanted to let go... And I really thought he loved me as much as I loved him, but after..." Riza paused. Even if she asked for her next confession to not only be confidential but off the record, how could she possibly say "after he burned my back"? That would lead to a whole series of questions she'd be unwilling to answer. "After he asked me to be his lieutenant, nothing else happened." She started to wonder if admitting to anything was actually safe. After all, she was blatantly telling a military psychologist that she had blatantly ignored the military fraternization laws and that she wanted to blatantly break them again. What exactly was the doctor's definition of "confidential"?

"Have you ever thought that he asked you to be his lieutenant so he could keep you close? Even if nothing could ever happen between the two of you, he would still be able to see you, something that would be nearly impossible if you were stationed somewhere else." Quite satisfied with her analysis and proposition, the doctor leaned back in her extremely comfortable armchair and watched as the lovely blonde woman picked up a wire disentanglement puzzle and began to fiddle with it.

"I've considered that, but he would have said something by now!" She pulled the metal ends of the puzzle and tried to flip one over. "And he wouldn't be going on all of those dates!"

"Could you tell me more about these 'dates'?"

Riza shrugged. "There's not much to say." She twisted the puzzle like a dishrag she was trying to wring out. "There are a few that I know mean nothing, because those girls are actually information sources. He had a huge web back at Eastern..." She twisted the puzzle the other way. "But half the women here are brainless and couldn't tell him anything he wants to know!" She lined up the two ends so that they were parallel and examined the contraption as she would her sniper when trying to analyze why the kick was stronger than usual. "What the hell is he doing! No. Don't answer that. I'm pretty sure I know. What else would he want with young, attractive women on Friday nights? And he still has the gall to call those outings 'information gathering sessions' or, my personal favourite, 'overnight exploratory missions'. As if anyone would believe that!" Frustrated, she began to pull at the puzzle as hard as she could while seriously contemplating using her Luger P08 on it. "Trust me, I grew up with him and–"

"I'm sorry, Miss Hawkeye. You _grew_ _up_ with him?"

Riza bit her lip. "He was my father's alchemy apprentice."

The psychologist almost dropped her pen. "_Your_ _father_ taught him alchemy?"

Riza started rapidly yanking at the obnoxious puzzle in her hands, making quite a ruckus. "How the hell does this thing work?!"

The doctor sighed. "Just twist them around each other in opposite directions, dear."

The young lieutenant followed the advice and the two pieces easily came apart. "Oh," she said with a slight frown.

"We were talking about your father and the colonel. You say your father taught him Flame Alchemy?"

"No. He learned that _after_ my father's death." Riza glared at the metal apparatus in her hands. Suddenly, she realized how stupidly symbolic the object was. Just make the two sticks run circles around each other and the whole problem was solved. Except... she and Roy just needed to _stop_ running circles around each other for everything to work out. And they didn't need to come apart; they needed to get together. So it was more quasi-counter-symbolism. It was so cliché she wanted to gag.

Or maybe it wasn't symbolic at all. Maybe she was busy trying to find something that related to her relationship with her superior officer. Something she could fix so she could go home knowing that everything would work out in her favour eventually. But there was no such puzzle. After all, what sort of puzzle involved one obnoxious and lecherous piece and one conservative and calm piece? They were humans, not games.

There. Riza could go back and tell the colonel that these sessions were completely pointless since she had just analyzed herself with absolutely no help whatsoever.

"Never mind the alchemy bit," the psychologist said as she waved a hand in front of her face. This was a new piece of interesting information that could help her analysis. "He lived with you? In the same house? How many years?"

Riza shifted in her seat, well aware of where the questions were headed, and she was not prepared to admit how much she hated him and how much she grew to love him before she was fifteen. "Almost ten years."

The psychologist heard a chime in the background. "It seems your hour is up. We'll have to continue this next week. Until then, think about telling the colonel how you feel. If anything it will give you peace of mind." She opened the door and saw one of the nurses walk into the waiting room.

Riza walked over to the reception desk. She desperately needed to go to the shooting range. These sessions, which Roy had recommended four months ago upon noting her ever-increasing stress level, had done nothing her guns couldn't do. She was sure that shooting off a few rounds, or even going back and cleaning every spring, lock, barrel, and pin would make her feel much better.

As young lieutenant Hawkeye was signing the co-pay, the waiting room door flew open and a young, handsome, black-haired, possibly Xingese man charged down the hallway, passing the blonde woman without a single glance.

_Colonel Roy Mustang_, the doctor thought. _He's never been in here before. It must be an emergency. _She sat down in her chair and waited, anxious to hear what was bothering the famous Flame Alchemist. _How ironic. Riza was just complaining about him and here he is..._

Roy threw open the door and slammed it behind him. He began to pace wildly, completely ignoring the doctor as she gave him a formal salute before sitting in her giant chair.

The psychologist picked up her pen. "Won't you please sit–"

"I'M IN LOVE WITH MY LIEUTENANT!" the colonel blurted. "I'M IN LOVE WITH RIZA HAWKEYE AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO!"

The woman sighed and adjusted her glasses. A few more years of doing army therapy and she'd end up in therapy herself.

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**By the way, if you don't know what a Luger P08 is, it's a toggle-locked, recoil-operated, semi-automatic pistol issued in the German army for the first time in 1908. That's the year she officially went into service in the military as a sniper in Ishbal. Just something to think about.**

**I really like this one-shot. It never made me laugh out loud (like some of my works do. Is it wrong to laugh at your own jokes? I always feel so weird laughing at things I've written), but I do think it's somewhat cute.**

**If you liked it, check out **_**How**__**FMA**__**Should**__**Have**__**Ended**_**. And leave a little review for each one! I like reviews... Even flames.**


	2. Chapter 2

**For those of you who were hoping that Dyanne would update a sequel or a second part to **_**Therapy**_**, prepare for disappointment. She did write some of this (the actual dialogue skeleton and the beginning plus a few paragraphs here and there), but she quickly became very frustrated with it and decided to leave it alone. So, as she sits reading Samurai (she said it's about a kamikaze pilot... she's weird like that), I've adopted it. I've also added one of her abandoned one-shots to this.**

**I do not own FMA or any of the characters in this. Except for the nurse and the secretary. The psychologist belongs to my sister.**

"I'M IN LOVE WITH MY LIEUTENANT! I'M IN LOVE WITH RIZA HAWKEYE AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO!"

The psychologist sighed and adjusted her glasses. "Would you like to sit–"

"I can't take it anymore!" He dropped to the couch. "I'm going crazy in that office. She's always there, but I can't..." He sighed and put his head in his hands. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked her to be my lieutenant..." He looked up. "No! Then I wouldn't be able to even talk to her! I could never deal with that..."

"Have you ever considered telling your lieutenant how you feel?"

Roy paled considerably. "She'd shoot me," he whispered.

The doctor stared at her pad of paper. "Why don't you start at the beginning?" She watched as the colonel picked up two pieces of a disentanglement puzzle.

"The beginning... Well, I was twelve and she was nine when I first met her. I was her father's alchemy student. To be honest, she and I did not get along well at first, but, over time, we became friends of a sort." He tapped the two pieces of the puzzle together in an attempt to fix it.

"When did you fall for her, Mr. Mustang?"

Roy started at the lack of a title, but he quickly brushed it off. "Um... I don't know the answer to that..."

"When did you first notice these feelings?" She leaned forward in her chair.

Roy shifted uncomfortably and stared at the puzzle in his hands. "I was... uh... eighteen."

"What brought this on? Did anything unusual happen that made you realize what you felt? Did she do something?"

Roy coughed and pulled at his collar as he wondered why on earth the room was getting so warm. "Uh... I noticed... um...." He fiddled with the metal apparatus. "Inoticedshehadarack," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry?"

He adjusted his collar again and wiped his brow. What on earth was going on with the room temperature? "I... I... I noticed she had a rack! Ok?" He leaned back on the couch. "I noticed that she had grown up and that she was in fact a female... That's when I knew."

"Mr. Mustang... Are you certain what you felt back then was love and not lust?"

His multitrack mind revved into full-force. One part of his mind was thinking, _Damn those Homunculi..._ Another part was thinking,_ Lust for Riza? Hell, yeah. That woman is damn sexy!_ A third part was screaming,_ Where did you learn psychology? A cereal box? Of course I love her!_ "That's not the only thing that I like about her!" He waved the pieces of the metal puzzle around like a conductor while he spoke. "I like her smile, her sense of humour, that expression she gets on her face when she sees a child, the way she cleans her guns..." He sat up suddenly and looked earnestly at the psychologist. "Do you know what it's like to be in love with someone but never have the guts to say something for fear of rejection?"

The psychologist shifted. "Well, I–"

"It sucks."

"Mr. Mustang, have you ever tried saying something?"

Roy closed his eyes and thought back to cadet school...

_Roy ran a hand through his hair in frustration. _It's just a few measly words! Why is this so hard? I'm going to be part of the military! I'm in cadet school right now! I can't afford to be weak!

_His roommate opened the door. _

"_Hey, Roy!" The black-haired, bespectacled man practically danced in the room. "I just met the most amazing girl!" he laughed, spinning in a circle for emphasis. "Listen to this: Her name is Gracia, she's gorgeous, she can cook, and she..." He stopped right before another pirouette and stared at his very frustrated roommate. "Hey, Roy! Are you listening to me?"_

_Roy grunted in response. Was it wrong that he didn't give a damn about his best-friend's love-life? The only girl Roy could think about was a spunky, lovely, recently orphaned blonde who had a penchant for artillery and had the most horrific bits of information he had ever imagined tattooed all over her back. He rubbed his eyes. How old had she been when her father had given that to her? Was she a willing participant? Roy decided that it didn't matter when or how or why. _It's a cruel and horrible thing to do to a child no matter how you look at it, _he mused_.

"_What are you up to?" The unbelievably chatty man leaned over Roy's shoulder. "'Dear Riza...' Hey! That's that girl you told me about! So? Are you writing to tell her how you feel?"_

"_Maes, could you go stick your nose in someone else's business?"_

"_But I just got here!" Maes flung himself onto the bed and stared up and the ceiling. Still staring at the blank ceiling, he reached onto the bedside table, picked up a wooden ball, and proceeded to toss said ball and and catch it repeatedly. Suddenly, he sat up. "Why aren't you telling her to her face?"_

"_What makes you think I'm even writing about that?" Roy contemplated _

"_You've been sitting in that position for the past two hours and the only thing you've written is 'Dear Riza, I.'"_

_Roy groaned and turned to face his roommate. "Because I can't tell her to her face."_

"_Why not?"_

"_... I don't want to see the look on her face when I do."_

"_Oh, please. Do you think she'll be disgusted or something? Listen, Roy," Maes held up a hand before the other man could interrupt and continued, "she'd be crazy to not love you back. Trust me. I've seen the way the girls here act when you so much as glance in their direction. Why on earth would you be afraid of telling her?"_

"_She'd shoot my balls off."_

"_Did you listen to a word I just said? There's no way she'd do that... Can she even legally own a gun? Isn't she seventeen or something? I was asking for a legitimate, logical answer, Roy."_

_Roy wondered if he should tell Maes that at the age of ten the girl had announced that her life's ambition was to shoot his brains out. After a moment or two he decided against it. "She thinks of me as a brother."_

_Maes laughed. Roy felt his annoyance resurface._

"_Really, Roy. Are sure that's not just your fears talking? How do you know she thinks of you in that way?"_

"_She told me herself!" Roy leaned forward and rubbed his forehead. "She told me herself."_

"_Oh." Maes swung his legs over the side off his bed. After a long silence he added, "That's a problem."_

"_No kidding."_

"_Well, then..." Maes stood up and stretched. "I'm going out."_

"_Again?"_

"_Don't worry!" The over-friendly, extremely noisy man flipped on the radio. "This will fill up the silence." He opened the door and left._

_Roy leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Why was this so hard? He knew what he wanted to say..._

"_Let Me Call You Sweetheart" ended and another ballad started playing. This one was about a man in unrequited love._

_Roy smiled sardonically. _ Figures.._. He ruffled his hair and looked back at the blank page for a few minutes._

_Another song started playing. This one was about a love that had died._

Really?_ He put down the pen, stood up, and began to pace._

_A new song began. Naturally, it was about failed love._

What the hell is wrong with the radio station? Who wants to listen to this?_ The music certainly was not encouraging him._

_When the fourth depressing love song started playing, Roy decided that the radio would look better as a scrap heap. He could always fix it later._

_He relished the silence as he walked over to the desk and looked at the paper. Unfortunately, he didn't feel like he had the strength to write anything (he blamed the radio), so he trashed it._

Roy shrugged. "Once or twice. It never really worked out though."

"Would you mind telling me about one of those instances?"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Why is that important? Are you gossip central, or something?"

The doctor gaped at him. _What the hell?_ "I–"

"Let me ask you something, how much of your patients' information do you truly keep confidential?" He glanced at the offending puzzle in his hands and set it on the floor.

The psychologist watched in horror as the next scene seemed to play out in slow motion: the colonel slipped a white glove on his hand, stretched out his arm, and snapped. After a few moments of heat and light, all she could see was a patch of burnt floor and molten metal. "Mr. Mustang..."

"Back to what I was saying earlier..." Roy casually took off his glove and sauntered over to the psychologist's chair. "How much of that information are you willing to share?"

The psychologist pushed up her glasses. This man was starting to seriously stress her out. "Mr. Mustang I will have you know that I _never_ disclose–"

Roy leaned over and plucked her glasses off her face. "Riza Hawkeye has been coming in to see you, yes? Do you mind telling her superior officer exactly what she has been saying?"

She reached for her glasses, which he held just beyond arm's length. "I'm not allowed to disclose that sort of information." What was this guy's problem?

"Oh, come now..." He put her spectacles on his face and she swiftly reached out and took them off. "Can't we work something out? After all, this is a special situation."

"Your being in love with her does not make this a special situation."

Roy put on a wounded puppy face. "My feelings aren't special?"

"I can't make exceptions."

"Can you at least tell me if she loves me back?"

The doctor seriously thought about telling him. He was causing her more stress, anxiety, and discomfort in one session than she received in a week's worth of sessions, and if he got what he wanted he might leave. Furthermore, she could help the whole affair wrap up nicely. "But integrity won in the end. "No."

His face fell. "She doesn't?"

"What? No! I meant–"

"Which means she does! Right?"

The psychologist stared at his elated expression and realized that the only other time she had seen that sort of expression was last Christmas when she and her husband had surprised their five-year-old daughter with a kitten. The colonel was like a child! "No! I meant–"

"She doesn't?" The colonel sank to the floor. "She doesn't..."

Definitely like a child. A bipolar child. "Mr. Mustang, please listen to me." Sh coughed. "I'm not allowed to tell you anything. That does not mean she loves you, and that does not mean she doesn't. I simply can't tell you that."

Roy stood up. "I see... Who else do you usually see?"

"Sir, please–"

Suddenly, he grabbed the arms of her chair. "Are you free this Friday night at, say, seven o'clock?"

"Excuse me?" she squeaked. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the armrests.

"Are you free? I'd like to take you out, just the two of us, so we can _talk_." Smiling, he pried her fingers from the arm and kissed her hand."

The doctor froze. _WHAT THE HELL?_ "Mr. Mustang, I would have you know that I am happily married."

"That doesn't matter. Come on, surely you've heard. I'm the number one catch in the military!"

She started breathing heavily. "I don't want to go out with any man but my husband, thank you."

"Call it in 'information exchange,' then."

She pulled her hand from his and pushed his away. "Mr. Mustang, if you want to get Riza Hawkeye... Dating other women is not the way to gain her favour."

He waved his hand in front of his face. "Riza understands. She knows all my dates are covers for information gathering."

She almost objected, but thought better of it. _He's driving me insane! And not in the Oh-my-God-he's-so-sexy way! If he asks me one more time..._

He leaned in again and touched her cheek. "Do you want to reconsider?"

The psychologist threw her hands in the air and jumped up, maneuvering around him deftly. "That does it!" She threw open the door and ran out into the waiting room. Under any other circumstances, she would have just run for the hills, but she had something important to do first. "Sir!" She grabbed her next patient by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir. I know we had a regularly scheduled appointment, but you'll have to reschedule."

"Doctor!" One of the secretaries ran into the room. "Doctor, what's wr–"

"I can't take this anymore! I quit!" With that, she bolted out the door.

The secretary glanced at the patient, who was completely frozen in shock. "Sir?"

"She quit on me... She actually quit..." The man crouched down and held his head in his hands. "I can't... I don't..." He began breathing very hard. "What am I supposed to do now? I can't go... I need– I– I– I'm going to... There's no– I can't stop coming! This is bad. This is very, very bad..." He lay down on the floor and curled up the the fetal position.

"Sir!" The secretary knelt down and grabbed his shoulder.

Another nurse ran in. "What's wrong?"

"The doctor just bolted, and he's having a panic attack."

They bent over the man and he shivered and rocked back and forth on the floor and muttered incoherently.

"Sir?"

"Sir, please try to calm down!"

"I just saw one of his overseeing officers. I'll go get her." The nurse ran out the door.

The secretary placed her hand on the patient's shoulder in a vain attempt to quiet him.

Only a few minutes later, the nurse came back with a blonde woman following her. Both of them knelt beside the man.

Roy walked into the waiting room. _Riza? What is she doing here? Wait... What is _he_ doing here? And why the hell is he on the floor?_

Riza bent over and forced the man to sit upright. She shook him by the shoulders quite hard. "Sergeant Feury, try to hold it together!"


End file.
